


Insanity in Pegasus

by Bil



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Aliens Made Them Do It, Ancient Technology gone wrong, F/M, Fluff, Humor, John without inhibitions is totally sappy, Matchmaking by accident, Season/Series 01, marriage proposals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23898829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bil/pseuds/Bil
Summary: In which John is obsessed, Carson is amused, and Elizabeth may just die of embarrassment. Sanity is overrated anyway.
Relationships: John Sheppard/Elizabeth Weir
Comments: 9
Kudos: 72





	1. Generally Known As “Uh-Oh”

**Author's Note:**

> Season: One, but a season one that was stretched out over a couple of years instead of just one year. So they’ve been out in Pegasus a couple of years but haven’t made any contact with Earth yet.  
> Spoilers: None.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own them, can’t you see?  
>  It is instead that they own me.  
>  I don’t intend to steal them so –  
>  But they never let me go.  
>  So please don’t sue me for this fic,  
>  I never meant a word of it.
> 
> A/N: This story will have three chapters and wind up at ten thousand words. This story was actually a total accident. Seriously. A long accident, but oh well. And, er, Simon? Who’s Simon?

Pausing in the controlroom on the way to her office, Elizabeth glanced down over Peter’s shoulder to look unseeingly at the readouts on his computer, then looked around as John came up the stairs two at a time. He paused at the top, grinned at her across the controlroom, and called: “Hey, Elizabeth? Will you marry me?”

For a moment she thought she must have imagined it, but one glance around the room at the shocked faces staring at either her or John told her that no, he really had just walked in and asked... that. Reluctantly she returned her gaze to his face. The grin still quirked his lips and he looked completely unconscious of the amazement every other person within earshot was experiencing.

With a lift of his eyebrows, he prodded, “Well?”

“I _beg_ your pardon?” she managed to find her voice. It almost came out level and composed as well, which was something of a minor miracle.

Not looking at all put out, he bounced into the controlroom and stopped a couple of feet away from her, looking far too cheerful for somebody who had just asked _that_. “Will you marry me?” he repeated. Apparently their ears hadn’t been deceiving them.

“Aren’t you missing a few steps?” she demanded in shock. “Like, I don’t know, a _date_?” Which, she realised belatedly, wasn’t quite the objection she should have been making to that question, but she was far too stunned at this bizarre behaviour for her brain to be working and didn’t think she could be blamed for a few idiocies just now.

“Okay,” he agreed obediently. “Wanna go on a date? With me,” he added as if worried she might misunderstand him. She wished she had misunderstood him.

“Are you feeling all right?” she asked. Because seriously, John Sheppard did _not_ come bouncing into the controlroom with proposals dripping from his lips.

“I feel fine. Why do you ask?”

“Maybe because you’ve gone _insane_?” inserted a voice from the back of the controlroom.

Elizabeth bit her lip, though she wasn’t sure if she was trying not to laugh or not to cry. “Come on, John, let’s go and see Carson.”

“I don’t think the Infirmary’s a good place for a date,” he said seriously, and Elizabeth heard muffled laughter behind her. Frankly, she couldn’t blame whoever it was. If this hadn’t been real life it would have closely resembled a farce.

“We’re not going on a date, John, we’re going to get you checked out.” Since he didn’t seem inclined to move on his own she linked her arm with his and gently moved him away. _Very_ aware as she did so of the eyes fixed on their backs as they made their way out of the room and towards the nearest transporter.

“You don’t want to date me?” John asked plaintively. Startled, she looked at him to find a completely crushed look on his face; it could have been funny but the pain in his eyes was too real for humour.

“I didn’t say that,” she said, rather against her better judgement. “I just want Carson to make sure you’re not sick.”

“Then you _do_ want to date me?” he asked hopefully. Elizabeth had a very strong urge to bang her head against the wall because he looked like a child holding a Christmas present that he really _really_ hoped was going to be the one toy he’d asked for.

“John...”

“You don’t,” he concluded dolefully, his mood plummeting again.

“That’s not what I meant!” she was coerced into saying. “I just... I want to make sure that you really mean what you’re saying before I say anything, all right?”

Shy hope flickered onto his face and she groaned inwardly. Because _shy_ was not a word normally associated with John and she wanted to take away his uncertainty but she didn’t even know what she was feeling right now.

It wasn’t every day you found yourself in charge of an alien city cut off from all contact with your homeplanet with life-sucking aliens hovering overhead – and then had your second in command (who might just be the best friend she’d ever had) go drippy with proposals and an apparent desire to date you. Okay, so life had gotten a little crazy in the past couple of years, but this was _too_ crazy. And it wasn’t even as if he’d been offworld any time in the last week. How could he have gotten into trouble in Atlantis? And was it going to be serious trouble?

John caught her eye and beamed at her. Elizabeth knew her return smile was a little shaky but he didn’t seem to notice. She hoped Carson would be able to get him back to normal soon. Before, preferably, she managed to either say something incriminating or smack John over the head to take that look off his face.

Carson accepted them into the Infirmary, listened to Elizabeth’s explanation (and laughed, which irritated her immensely), and turned to John. John, who had spent the entire explanation with his eyes fixed on Elizabeth. John, who didn’t seem to notice he was being looked at because his eyes were _still_ fixed on Elizabeth. “So, Major,” Carson said cheerfully, “let’s take a look at you, shall we?” John’s attention flickered, realising he was being spoken to.

Relieved, Elizabeth went to make good her escape. Too slowly.

“Elizabeth? Where are you going?” There was no mistaking the anxious note in his voice.

She ran a hand over her face and turned back to John, who was trying to get off the bed while Carson tried to stop him. “Nowhere, apparently,” she said, resigning herself to her fate and walking back into the room.

John stopped trying to escape, much to Carson’s relief, and beamed at her. “You can sit here,” he said, patting the bed next to him. Elizabeth sighed but wasn’t immune to the pleading look in his eyes. To refuse would be like kicking Jinto. She perched on the foot of the bed, as far away from him as possible.

She hadn’t thought it would work and it didn’t. John scooted down the bed to sit beside her, making Carson mutter with irritation, though he didn’t get quite close enough to touch her. He beamed at her with such happiness that Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile back.

Then she looked at Carson. “ _Now_ do you believe me?”

“Oh, I believe you, all right,” he said with feeling. “This is not the Major’s normal behaviour.”

John apparently didn’t mind begin talked about as if he wasn’t there – which was just another indication of how unlike himself he was.

Though Elizabeth did her best not to look at him as Carson carried out his tests, she couldn’t help but be aware that whenever his attention wasn’t demanded elsewhere John was looking at her. Not quite staring... Gazing was probably the best word for it. Like she was the one good thing left in the world, actually. It was disturbing and out of character and... and okay, maybe a little flattering. So she tried very hard to pretend it wasn’t happening.

And succeeded so well that when something brushed against her hand she almost jumped out of her skin. She looked down just as John slipped his hand into hers and laced his fingers through hers. For a moment she froze, then she went to pull her hand back but made the mistake of looking up and meeting John’s eyes. He looked so happy and hopeful – and really, all he was doing was holding her hand. Why not let him have that if he wanted it so much?

Carson turned back to them and took in this new development, raising his eyebrows. Elizabeth shot him a helpless look. Well, what did he _expect_ her to do?

Not being suicidal, he refrained from comment. “Well, Major,” he said instead, “so far there’s nothing wrong with you. But I’m waiting on the results of the blood tests before I’ll say anything for sure.”

“There has to be something,” Elizabeth said desperately. John’s fingers were warm and gentle around hers and she really wanted to pull away but knew she’d only find herself in some new trouble if she did. She was starting to think she’d find herself in a different sort of trouble if she didn’t, though.

“I agree,” Carson said, looking pointedly to her trapped hand. “But if the bloodwork comes out clean...”

“It won’t,” she said firmly. There had to be a reason for this – and a cure. It simply wasn’t allowed for there to be any other reality.

John squeezed her hand. “What’s wrong, Elizabeth?” he asked softly. “You look worried.”

“I am worried,” she said truthfully, turning to him.

Concern darkened his eyes. “I don’t want you to be worried.”

“Well, I’m afraid you don’t have a lot of control over the situation,” she said, a little too tartly. He didn’t notice. “What were you doing before you came to find me?”

He pursed his lips, thinking. “I was looking for you.”

“Before that,” she said.

“I was thinking about you.”

“Before that,” she persevered. Carson’s grin was _not_ helping.

“Um... I think McKay was there.”

Carson’s grin fled. “In a lab?” he demanded.

John shrugged. “Maybe,” he said without interest.

“Try to think, John,” Elizabeth urged him. “Where were you when you were with Rodney?”

He smiled brightly at her. “Okay. Um... I was in McKay’s lab. He had a statue. It was pretty ugly, though.” His smile widened even further. “Not like you.”

Yes, there was definitely red in her cheeks. Trying to pretend there wasn’t, Elizabeth tapped urgently at her radio. “Rodney, tell me this isn’t your fault.”

“Have you found him?” Rodney’s voice crackled over the radio.

“If by ‘him’ you mean Major Sheppard, then yes.”

Rodney completely failed to hear the edge in her voice. “Oh good. Send him back down here, will you? He isn’t answering my calls.”

“No, he was too busy asking me to marry him.”

“If you—He was _what_?”

“You heard me.”

“Oh no.”

“That’s not what I want to hear, Rodney.”

“That wasn’t supposed to happen!”

“That’s still not what I want to hear, Rodney.” She made no attempt to keep the bite out of her voice. If this was because of something Rodney had done then heads were going to roll.

“But he said there _wasn’t_ anyone—Yes, Radek, I _know_ —No, look, if we hadn’t—”

“Rodney!”

Rodney heaved a sigh. “Bring him down here. And I mean you, because he’s not going to go with anyone else.”

“Yes, Rodney, I gathered that.”

“Oh.”

“Please tell me you can fix this.”

“I think so.”

“Rodney!”

“I mean, of course I can! Don’t worry. He’ll be fine.”

Elizabeth turned her radio off with a huff of irritation that made John look at her worriedly. She managed a smile for him. “Come on, John, we’re going to go and see Rodney.” She slipped off the bed and tugged at his hand.

“Okay,” he said, hopping off the bed (and why couldn’t he be this obedient all the time?). “Then can we go on a date?”

Elizabeth bit her tongue. “We’ll see.”

This seemed to satisfy him, even if it made Carson look at her oddly.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the last odd look she was destined to garner, since John refused to let go of her hand now. They had luck enough to pass no one observant in the hallways, but Rodney and Radek’s eyes went almost immediately to Elizabeth and John’s joined hands. She was just glad Aiden and Teyla were off on the Mainland for a few days to lend a hand over the harvest; the fewer people giving her funny looks the better.

“Answers, Rodney,” she snapped, which swiftly got rid of any unwanted attention. John squeezed her fingers comfortingly and without thought she squeezed back.

“He agreed to it!” Rodney said defensively. “He _said_ —”

“Rodney!”

Even Rodney wasn’t immune to her rare but effective I-am- _rapidly_ -losing-patience voice. “It was this,” he said sulkily, pushing aside the mad scientist’s collection of equipment on the lab bench so that she could see the object he and Radek had been studying. It was a figurine, about a foot high, of what looked like a stylised walrus (a _badly_ stylised walrus) painted in clashing shades of pink, orange, and green.

“What in the name of sanity is that?” Carson demanded.

Elizabeth stared at it. How could the Ancients, the builders of Atlantis, possibly have made something that looked like that? “You were right, John, that _is_ an ugly statue.”

“Not like you,” he said with simple pride, making her look at him in surprise. He reached up to brush at a curl on her cheek. “You’re beautiful.”

Maybe if it had just been the reverent tone she could have handled it, but the look in his eyes was equally sincere. Elizabeth blushed. “Thank you,” she said stiffly and fought down the urge to order him to wipe that smug look off Rodney’s face. “I hope you have some answers for me, Rodney,” she said sharply, which was almost as effective. “I take it this...” She waved helplessly at the statue with her free hand.

“Monument to bad taste,” Carson supplied.

“Is what caused...” Damn, she hadn’t had this much trouble finishing a sentence in years. “Major Sheppard’s behaviour.”

“Yes, yes.” Rodney nodded. “We found it in one of the new labs. The documentation with it said it was a... sort of like a matchmaking device, I guess you could call it.”

“A matchmaking device.” Elizabeth gave him an unconvinced look. “And this interested you because...?”

“It didn’t! It was all Radek’s idea!”

“It was not!” Radek protested. “ _I_ did not say—”

“Gentlemen! I don’t care whose idea it was, I just want my second in command back in his normal state of mind! Is that too much to ask?”

“Matchmaking is wrong word,” Radek decided. “It is an... attention-focussing device. It alters the focus of the subject’s mind to concentrate on specific topic.”

That made a lot more sense than the idea that her two top Ancient technology experts were playing with matchmaking devices. “So you thought this could help you.”

“Yes!” Rodney said. “We thought it could make us more efficient. If we can get it to work then we can use it to increase our ability to concentrate even in difficult environments. You know, like if the Wraith attack. We wouldn’t be distracted by thoughts of our impending doom.” He looked at her hopefully. Elizabeth didn’t give him any reason to feel he’d succeeded in softening her. “The problem is, it’s currently stuck on what’s basically the matchmaking setting.”

“Which brings us to John. How?” How on Atlantis would anyone convince John to play with a matchmaking device?

“Well, according to the documentation we found, it’s only supposed to work where the subject is already experiencing very strong feelings towards _one_ person. And only one. And if you’re not, then it won’t actually do anything.”

Elizabeth spread her free hand. “And? So?”

“So the device has to activate to tell if you’re suitable or not, and so we thought if we had someone who wasn’t suitable and they activated it then we’d be able to get readings when it’s working without it actually _doing_ anything.”

“That sounds almost sensible, Rodney,” Carson said.

“Hey, why the surprise? I can be sensible!” His mouth twisted. “And it was Radek’s idea.”

“But it did not work,” Radek said, looking at John. They all looked at John. He didn’t notice, too busy gazing again. Elizabeth looked away, willing her cheeks not to heat up.

“Well, he _said_ there wasn’t anyone!” Rodney protested. “I don’t see how it’s my fault that he doesn’t know his own mind! How was I supposed to know he didn’t even know what he was thinking?”

Elizabeth could feel a headache building up. “All right, back to this device. Do you know how to turn it off?”

“No,” Rodney said defensively, talking quickly as if to keep from giving her the chance to tell him off. “That’s why we wanted to take the readings. And since he was _supposed_ to be a perfect subject there shouldn’t have been a problem, we should have just got the readings and everything would have been fine and we would have had the time to go through the readings and figure out all the...” He trailed off under Elizabeth’s look and tried to regather his thoughts. “So we turned it on and he just touched the thing and it hummed for a minute – we got some good data but we’ve still got to go through it all – and then he looked around and said, uh...”

“ ‘She’s not here’,” Radek supplied.

“Yes, that, and then he just walked out. Didn’t say another word. Quite rude, actually.”

“Why didn’t you call someone?”

Rodney and Radek shared glances. “It didn’t seem important,” Rodney said simply.

“Not important? My chief military officer loses his mind and you don’t think that’s important?”

Rodney cowered under her glare. “Well, how was I supposed to know he’d lost his mind? He wasn’t acting weird. Even not answering my calls isn’t that unusual.”

She had to admit he had a point. But not out loud. She pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. “So what are we dealing with here, exactly? This thing,” she pointed at the statue, “has made him decide I’m...” She couldn’t finish that sentence either. And now would be a really good time for John to let go of her hand.

“Oh no no no, it doesn’t change anything in his mind,” Rodney assured her hastily. “It just makes him focus on one thing that’s already in his head, it’s not introducing anything new. So anything he’s done is something he’d already have... wanted...” He trailed off, accurately deciphering from Elizabeth’s expression that she wasn’t actually happy with the news he was giving her.

“Can you fix it?” she demanded through clenched teeth. “Real or not, he’s not going to be a hell of a lot of use in this condition if the Wraith attack.”

Possibly it was the unexpected swearword that made Rodney realise just how deep he’d dug himself this time. Realistically she should be angry at John too for agreeing to this little experiment, but it was hard to be angry at him when he was the one affected – not to mention that she knew he went along with Rodney’s guinea pig trials because, despite his grumblings, he trusted Rodney to know when to draw the line. Unfortunately, sometimes Rodney’s zeal got ahead of his ability.

“We can try,” Radek said firmly, pushing his glasses up his nose and meeting her eyes. “We have the data from—”

“Yes yes,” Rodney interrupted. “Of course we can fix it. No problem.”

Strangely, Elizabeth was more comforted by Radek’s acknowledged uncertainty.

Rodney spun around to turn to his monitor and the graphs squiggling across it. “Now this, look at this...”

Carson stepped forward around the bench to have a look. Elizabeth tried to follow, but John’s fingers were still wrapped around hers. She turned to him. “John, I have to take a look at this. That means I need my hand back.” Reluctantly he released her. “Thank you.” She smiled at him and he beamed back.

Frankly, all this cheerfulness was getting a little freaky.

_To be continued_


	2. In Way Over Her Head

Elizabeth joined the three at the computer and listened as Rodney explained his findings, nodding at the right places even when she didn’t quite follow. She didn’t have to understand everything he was saying, she’d learnt that a long time ago. What was important when dealing with scientists was to force them to put their ideas into concrete words so that they could look at their findings from another angle. When they had to explain something they usually taught themselves more than they did the person they were talking to.

When Rodney and Radek descended into exchanging serious technobabble with Carson, though, Elizabeth retreated. There were some places even the leader of Atlantis didn’t need to go. Then, obedient to John’s pleading look, she moved back to his side where he was leaning against a table and watching her. She leant against the table next to him and sighed.

“Don’t worry, Elizabeth,” he said. “It’s gonna be okay.”

He sounded so much like the real John that she didn’t protest when his arm slid around her waist to draw her closer to him. He managed to insert himself between her and the table so that she was leaning flush against him, his arms around her waist in a loose, comforting embrace.

“It’ll be okay,” he repeated. “You’ll see.”

She relaxed against him, leaning her head back against his shoulder and taking comfort in his presence. Anyone else, she would have been horribly embarrassed, not to mention worried about how he was going to feel if he remembered this when he was back to normal, but this was John. She and John had never really had any personal space when it came to one another.

He leant his cheek against her hair as she stared blankly in the direction of Rodney and the others, trying to assimilate the meaning of what Rodney had said. That this, this clingyness, this affection, wasn’t something created by that truly _ugly_ statue, but in fact something that had been inside John all along.

_ Elizabeth? Will you marry me? _ And she remembered the way he’d looked, as if this was perfectly natural, as if this was the only important thing in the world...

What the hell?

John? Marriage?

This was insane!

And sadly the idea that John secretly wanted to marry her ( _marry_ her? _her_?) was much much stranger than the idea of mind-controlling devices disguised as ugly walruses. Her life was officially insane.

She shook her head. The idea was too much to swallow and truthfully she didn’t believe it. Rodney wasn’t right just because he thought he was. It was equally possible this was all some weird sort of bogeyman conjured up out of John’s friendship with her and nothing deeper than that. In fact, it was _far_ more likely. She sighed and closed her eyes. Why was nothing ever simple on Atlantis?

“Elizabeth?” John whispered. “You okay?”

She opened her eyes and twisted her head up so that she could look at him despite the fact his arms held her in place. There was genuine concern in his face, not just the uncharacteristic besottedness she was becoming reluctantly accustomed to. “I will be when Rodney fixes this,” she said truthfully.

“Okay. Can I help?”

“I’ll let you know. But I don’t think so.”

He looked downcast – far more downcast than John should ever look – but said “Okay.” She stopped looking at him before her neck could protest the unnatural angle too loudly and leant her head back on his shoulder. His arms tightened around her waist. “I wish I could help you,” he said mournfully.

“I know, John,” she said, wrapping her arms across his and rubbing comfortingly at the back of his hand with her thumb. “I know.”

He was quiet for several minutes, while Elizabeth frowned at the scientists and willed them to hurry up, then he leant his cheek against her hair and said, “I really would like to marry you, you know.”

Elizabeth froze. And could only be glad that Carson and the others chose that moment to turn around, even if they did look at her strangely. She ignored them and tugged gently at John’s hands. “John, I need you to let go.” Reluctantly he did so – and did he drop a kiss onto her hair or was she letting her imagination run away with her?

Deciding that it was better to ignore it even if it had really happened, she went over to the others and also ignored the curious looks slanted her way. “Have you got something?” she asked.

“Quite a lot, actually,” Rodney began.

“Aye,” Carson said quellingly, “but we’re not sure how much is useful.”

“It’s all useful!”

“Not to the problem at hand,” Carson retorted and looked back at Elizabeth. “That... device does seem to work as an aid to mental focus, but how or why is beyond me. We just don’t understand enough about the human brain.”

“Or Ancient technology,” Radek said glumly.

“All right.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Will you be able to reverse the effects?” Preferably before the Wraith attacked or John drove her insane.

“If we just—”

Carson cut Rodney off. “At this point in time, no, but there’s a lot of data here we have to go through and I’m certain that we’ll find our answers.”

“We will find a solution,” Radek assured her. “There is no need to worry.”

“Of course we’ll find a solution,” Rodney said with unconscious arrogance.

Elizabeth just accepted it as a part of Rodney. “How long?” Soon; please be soon.

Carson’s answer was cut off by a quiet “Elizabeth?”

She turned, hastily quelling her impatience because it wasn’t John’s fault he was how he was, to see him coming up behind her, looking lost. “Shh, John,” she said as gently as she could. “This is important.”

He deflated a little. “Can I stay with you?”

If the device turned everyone who used it into a besotted five year old then the Ancients really hadn’t got the kinks on this one worked out yet. “Of course.” She turned back to Carson and the others, moving aside a little to let John stand beside her. She ignored him as he slipped his arm around her waist, intent on Carson’s explanation of what needed to be done, but he managed to ruck her shirt up under his fingers and she gasped at the sudden contact as his thumb began tracing gentle circles on the sensitive skin of her waist. Maybe not so much of the five year old after all.

“Elizabeth?” Carson asked with concern. “Are you all right?”

She smiled gamely. “I’m fine. Please, continue.” As he did so she wrapped her arms around her stomach so that she could unobtrusively close one hand over John’s and stop the distracting movement. So now there was just his thumb lying warm and rough against her skin. God, was he _trying_ to kill her?

Therefore it was purely in self-defence that she was the one to take John’s hand when they headed back to the Infirmary at Carson’s direction. Hand-holding was acceptable, but she didn’t want to find out what else he might have in mind. He gave her a shy, delighted grin – definitely not John – and she fought the urge to knock her head against the wall. The universe was definitely out to get her; she just hoped he wouldn’t remember any of this when it was over. In fact, she was starting to hope that _she_ wouldn’t remember it when it was over.

In the Infirmary Carson firmly directed John towards the MRI machine. John looked at Elizabeth pleadingly. “Do I have to do this?”

“Yes, John.”

He sighed resignedly. “ _Then_ can we go on a date?” She knew it was stupid to think so given the circumstances, but his dogged persistence on the issue was oddly endearing.

“We’ll talk about it when Carson’s finished with you,” she promised. By which time, she hoped, this would have worn off and he wouldn’t want to talk about it anymore. Ever.

“Okay. You won’t leave?” He looked like a five year old about to face the dentist and worried his mother would disappear on him.

Elizabeth spared a thought for the work piled up in her office, then looked at the genuine concern on John’s face. “No, John,” she said with a smothered sigh. “I’ll be right here the whole time.”

He heaved a sigh of relief. “Okay.”

Elizabeth refused to meet Carson’s eyes as the doctor led John away.

And then she spent the next half an hour twiddling her thumbs in the main Infirmary. She knew that she could duck out for five minutes and John would never notice the difference, but that wasn’t the point. She’d promised him she wouldn’t, so she wouldn’t. Even if it was a waste of her time. Not to mention _boring_.

It was worth it, though, to see the delight blossom on John’s face when he saw she was still there and waiting for him. Even if it wasn’t a real emotion, just a chimera constructed out of that weird statue’s effects, at least she hadn’t broken her promise to him.

“I’m just going to see how that bloodwork’s coming,” Carson said. He said it to both of them, but Elizabeth was the only one listening. She nodded to him and, obedient to John’s hopeful look and knowing it would be easier in the long run, sat down next to John. He would have put his arm around her but she caught his hand in hers and held it firmly between hers in her lap. His fingers curled around hers and he smiled, beamingly happy.

“I’m glad you’re here, Elizabeth,” he said simply.

She smiled at him and patted his hand. “I’ll be here for as long as you need me,” she promised recklessly.

Several hours later, though, Elizabeth was ready to explode with frustration. John, for probably the first time in his entire life, didn’t care that he was stuck in the Infirmary but she did. As Carson approached, ready to conduct another test, she slid off the bed and gently undid John’s fingers from her hand. “John, I’m going to get us something to eat.” His look of instant dismay was so sincere she almost retracted the decision, but she stomped down on her sympathy: she needed to clear her head. “I’ll just be ten minutes, fifteen at the most.”

“Promise?” he asked mournfully. She might as well have just announced she was leaving for Earth and never coming back. This needed to be fixed _soon_.

“I promise.”

His shoulders slumped. “Okay,” he said reluctantly.

She could feel his eyes on her as she walked out the door but forced herself not to look back.

As the Infirmary doors shut behind her she stopped still, tilting her head back and closing her eyes before letting out a long breath. Nothing in her experience had prepared her for trying to deal with a clingy second in command suffering from artificial besottedness. If it had been anyone but John, she would have been sorely tempted to avoid the Infirmary until the fit had passed. But it _was_ John – and she’d promised to only be away for quarter of an hour.

Elizabeth headed for the controlroom. 

Everyone looked up as she entered. “Ma’am?” Peter spoke for all of them. “Is the Major going to be okay?”

She looked around at their hopeful faces and was struck suddenly with a surge of affection for them all. The Expedition had started out as strangers, but now they were family. “I hope so, Peter. He was exposed to an Ancient device – with obvious consequences.” Smiles all round. “Rodney and Carson are both working on reversing the effects. With any luck, he’ll be through the stargate annoying the Wraith instead of us in no time.” There was laughter and people turned back to their work. “Anything happening here?” she asked Peter.

He shook his head. “No, we’re fine.”

Elizabeth tried not to sigh sadly. It would have been nice to have an excuse not to babysit her second in command. “Good,” she lied. “I’ll be in the Infirmary if I’m needed.”

“Understood.”

She stepped across into her office with the intention of grabbing her laptop so that she’d be able to get _some_ work done while she (literally) held John’s hand. Once there, though, she sat down in her chair and stared blankly at her desk. Away from the Infirmary – away from John – she took the moment to try and work out exactly what it was she was feeling. Because she didn’t know what she was feeling and she wasn’t used to that. Elizabeth might not always be in control of her emotions, but she did usually have the ability to at least identify them. But now... Worry, of course, and concern. A little discomfort but not nearly as much as had it not been John. And a lot of confused emotion she couldn’t possibly put a name to.

Suddenly realising she’d spent ten minutes staring blankly at her desk, Elizabeth jumped to her feet and picked up her laptop. Confused emotions or not, she couldn’t be late, not when she’d promised John.

As she passed back through the controlroom Peter looked up and asked, “Have you agreed yet?”

Elizabeth paused in confusion and looked at him blankly. She also thought she heard a muffled giggle behind her, but must have imagined it. “Agreed to what?”

He shook his head and looked away. “Never mind.”

She frowned at the back of his head for a moment, then walked off. She really really hoped John’s insanity wasn’t contagious.

After a very quick stop at the messhall, she got back to the Infirmary fifteen minutes to the second after she’d left. John looked up with unwilling hope – conjuring up images of him spending the entire fifteen minutes looking up eagerly every time someone entered the room – and then jumped to his feet, breaking into a wide smile. “Elizabeth!”

“Oh thank God,” Carson said, spinning in his chair to look at her and almost as relieved as John.

John bounced up to her. “You’re back!”

“Yes, I noticed,” she said with amusement.

“Never leave me alone with him again,” Carson said in an undertone as he steered her over to his computer. She lifted an eyebrow; John had never been a model patient, but Carson had always been able to handle him. “Don’t ask,” he said flatly. “Just – don’t ask.”

Elizabeth smiled as he started to show her data on his computer as if he expected her to understand it, and held out a plate of food to John. He took it and put it down on the nearest bed, more interested in inching as close to her as possible. Rolling her eyes at the back of Carson’s head, Elizabeth took John’s hand and gripped it reassuringly.

Once Carson had finished his not-as-helpful-as-he-thought explanation, John was once again undergoing tests. Elizabeth sat on a bed, her tablet on her knee, and chewed thoughtfully on a sandwich as she looked over the latest offworld team reports. The feeling of eyes on her made her look up. John was watching her hopefully, Carson having disappeared, and she sighed, shutting her computer down.

John’s eyes brightened but he said worriedly, “Am I bothering you?”

She couldn’t help but smile at him. “You never bother me, John.”

Beaming at her (and she was pretty sure that before today she’d never made anyone this happy), he hopped off his bed and came to sit beside her. “I’m glad,” he said softly and lightly traced the curve of her jaw with his fingers.

Elizabeth closed her eyes against the feel of his hand on her skin. She couldn’t _possibly_ be wishing this was real. It had to be just the fact that it was two years since anyone had looked at her as Elizabeth-the-woman and not Doctor Weir or Elizabeth-the-friend. (She didn’t think that the trader on Moloth who’d desperately wanted to add her to his harem really counted.)

“Elizabeth?” Carson said in surprise and her eyes flicked open as she pulled away from John’s touch. John whispered her name worriedly, reaching out to her, and she caught his hand before it could do any more damage and held it firmly between her own.

She tried to smile at Carson. “Yes?”

“Oh.” He looked between her and John. “I... I’m going to need to keep the Major here overnight for observation.”

She closed her eyes a moment. Give her strength. “Let me guess, that means I have to stay too.”

“You’re not going to leave, are you, Elizabeth?” John asked worriedly.

“I would say so,” Carson agreed, amused.

With a sigh she turned to John, meeting his frantic gaze. “No, John, I’m not going to leave.”

She wasn’t sure if his relief was flattering or exasperating.

Although when she was forced to spend a night in the infirmary despite being perfectly healthy, she was definitely leaning towards the latter. She tugged on the hospital scrubs Carson had given her for pyjamas (John wouldn’t let her leave him alone again and Carson wouldn’t let him leave) and scowled at John, who was sitting on the bed next to hers in his own scrubs and beaming at her. She felt like she was at a five-year-old’s slumber party.

“I hope you realise, Major,” she told him sternly, “that I wouldn’t _dream_ of putting up with all this for anyone else.”

He just grinned at her until she had to shake her head and smile back. Even when he wasn’t trying, John could be irresistibly charming.

“Good night, John,” she said, pulling back the covers and slipping into bed.

“Good night, Elizabeth,” he said happily, mimicking her and rolling onto his side so that he could lean his head on his hand and watch her. Again.

“If you’re not careful,” Elizabeth told him tartly, “you’re going to run a serious risk of becoming a stalker.”

He grinned but didn’t look away. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I just like looking at you.”

She propped herself up on her elbow and studied him in return. “I know this is probably a stupid question,” she said, “but _why_?”

“Because you’re beautiful,” he said simply.

“So is Teyla – much more so than I am – and I don’t see you mooning over her.”

“Teyla’s nice,” John agreed, “but you’re _you_.”

She laughed. “With logic like that it’s very hard to argue with you.”

“You shouldn’t,” he told her. “Because it’s true. You can’t argue with the truth.”

She snuggled down into the pillow and sighed, missing her own bed with the pillow she’d beaten into just the right shape. “I think you’ll find most people can, John.”

“Not this one,” he said firmly. “I don’t love Teyla.”

Elizabeth slammed her eyes shut and went very very still. To her great relief he didn’t add the logical extension of that statement. After a while she even remembered how to breathe again. She pretended she was asleep and he didn’t push it, for she could hear him settling down in his own bed, her ears hyper-attuned to every sound he made.

He didn’t mean it, she assured herself. It was just the statue talking and in the morning when Carson and Rodney figured out how to fix this he’d be back to his old self.

Still, she should have seen it coming. He’d asked her to _marry_ him, for God’s sake, it was obvious where his thoughts had been directed. Despite that, the intrusion of _that_ word into the space between them shocked her, scared her. Scared her? It _terrified_ her.

Because even if he was acting weirdly and developing stalker-ish tendencies, even though he was uncharacteristically besotted, even though the look of worship that came into his eyes made her horribly uncomfortable because she didn’t want anyone to worship her... this was still John. John was still in there, John was the one holding her hand, the one worried about her. The one telling her she was beautiful (even if it wasn’t true).

And yes, it terrified her.

Because she was identifying some of those confused emotions and they were turning out to be emotions she really didn’t want to be having.

She’d discovered at some point in this crazy, mixed-up day that she _did_ want to date John. She’d never considered the idea before; he was just John, a good, dear friend... And suddenly she had a sinking feeling that she’d discovered it was possible to tumble headlong into love with someone without even realising it. And if that was true, if she’d somehow...

Then how could she face John when this was all over and he no longer felt the way he did now?

_ To be concluded... _


	3. Happily, It Ends

Eventually Elizabeth managed to fall asleep, despite the thoughts going fruitlessly round and round in her head, but she woke to dim lights and a stillness that told her it was still deep nighttime. When she rolled onto her side, though, she found John watching her.

She didn’t jump because she was still dozy and it seemed perfectly natural that he should be there, gazing at her with warm affection in his eyes and sitting in the chair beside her bed as if in mirror of the nights she’d spent at his bedside after one of his too-frequent injuries. The dim light softened the worshipping look that the statue had given him so that she could almost believe it was really John looking at her like that.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” she told him around a yawn.

“I know.” He brushed a tangle of curls from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin. “But when I sleep you’re not there.” She reach up and took his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb across the back of his fingers in mute comfort. “I was dreaming and I couldn’t find you. I was scared.”

The John she knew would never have admitted to something like that. The John she knew would never have looked at her with such remembered fear. But even though he wasn’t the John she knew, he was still John. And it was two in the morning and she needed to sleep.

Elizabeth shuffled over as far as she could on the bed. “Come here.”

He hesitated, then got on to the bed as well, lying on top of the sheets and facing her, watching her with wide, wondering eyes. The bed wasn’t really designed for two people, even lying on their sides, and she could smell the faint bracken-musk scent of him, the Pegasus Galaxy’s alar leaf-based shampoo in his unruly hair, and feel the warm presence of him. 

She smiled at him sleepily. “Now go to sleep, John. I won’t go anywhere. I promise.”

Shuffling a little closer to her, he slipped his arm over her waist, a gentle, unrestricting weight on her side. “Thank you, Elizabeth,” he said softly.

She rested her head more fully against the pillow, letting her forehead touch his. “Just sleep, John.”

* * *

Carson’s startled exclamation half-woke her early in the morning, but John was already getting up, dealing with the noise, and Elizabeth was tired so she went back to sleep, snuggling into the warm spot John had left behind.

When she woke again, it was to find John once again sitting in the chair by her bed, greeting her with a welcoming smile and a cup of coffee.

“Bless you, John,” she said, sitting up and accepting the cup. She felt unusually groggy for first thing in the morning and the coffee was a very welcome sight. “I don’t usually sleep that heavily.”

Memories began to creep back as she drank. Had he—? Had she really... Carson!

Sighing, she took another sip of coffee. There wasn’t exactly much she could do about it now. “Did you manage to get some sleep?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes. Thanks to you.”

The look in his eyes was unfortunately still besotted, but she pretended it wasn’t and smiled. “Well, I did always think that Sedge only put up with me because I make a great teddy bear.”

He smiled back. “The best.”

As her thoughts began edging into dangerous territory – like how nice it would be to wake up to that smile every morning – she downed the last of her coffee and hastily turned her mind to more important things. Like getting John back to normal. “Did I hear Carson earlier?”

“Yup.”

“Has he got anything new?”

John just shrugged, which she should have expected, since he didn’t pay attention to anything unless it had something to do with her.

Carson chose that moment to come back into the room and one look at him told her he had definitely seen John asleep on her bed. “He wasn’t getting any sleep,” she said defensively.

“I’m not judging you, love,” Carson said hastily, holding up his hands in surrender.

She sighed. “Sorry. Have you anything...?”

“Not yet,” he admitted. “But I think we’re close to something now. Rodney’s discovered that—”

Elizabeth held up a hand. “I’ve only had one cup of coffee, Carson. Please, none of Rodney’s explanations until I’m actually awake.”

Carson smiled. “Suffice to say, we’re making progress. Don’t worry, Elizabeth, we’ll soon have the Major back to his old self again.”

With John’s eyes on her she managed to squash the urge to shout “Hooray!” on the grounds it might throw him into a depression. But she _thought_ it. “Let me know—”

“Believe me, Elizabeth, the moment we have anything you’ll know about it.”

“Good.” She pushed back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed, running her hands through her hair and ruefully reflecting that she must look a complete mess. Looking down at her hospital scrubs, she said, “Carson, could we get ready for the day in our own rooms?”

“I’d really prefer to keep him under observation.”

“Half an hour, Carson. You know how John hates being stuck in here.”

Carson chuckled. “Elizabeth, love, right now I don’t think he cares where he is so long as you’re here.”

She glanced at John, who was leaning his elbow on the bed and watching her with a smile, and blushed despite herself at the truth of that statement. Pulling a face, she said, “Fine, Carson. _I_ need to get out of here before I go crazy. Happy now?” She tried her best puppy-dog-John impression. “ _Please_?”

He shot her a look half rueful, half amused. “All right, then, go. Before you start imitating more than just his expressions. I don’t want half my Infirmary destroyed.”

Elizabeth gave him a grateful look and snatched up yesterday’s uniform. “ _Thank_ you.”

They went to John’s quarters first and Elizabeth snooped around his room while he showered and dressed. Not that she hadn’t already seen everything in his quarters, but she’d never been in here alone before. Unfortunately there wasn’t anything there that explained why some crazy statue had made him fixate on her, just the same belongings there had always been, his few treasures brought from Earth and a few more items picked up on missions.

Then he waited in her room while she performed her own morning ablutions. She went back into the bedroom brushing out her damp hair and John pushed himself off the wall he’d been lounging against and beamed at her. “I like your picture,” he said.

Elizabeth glanced over at the picture beside her bed though she didn’t need to look at it to know what it was. “Radek gave it to me a few weeks ago,” she said.

It was a photo, in which Rodney, Teyla, and Aidan were very seriously contemplating their hands in a game of Go Fish (of all crazy things to play). Rodney was on one side of the table by himself because he couldn’t be trusted not to accidentally cheat if things went against him, and Aidan and Teyla sat opposite. At the head of the table, opposite the photographer, John and Elizabeth stood, watching on with great amusement, John leaning on her shoulder as he whispered a comment to her that had her laughing. She loved the photo as a reminder of the wonderful family she’d found out here in the wilds of Pegasus, she just hadn’t realised until this moment how... together she and John looked in it.

Resolutely pushing away the thought she tossed her hairbrush onto her bed and held out her hand to John, saying, “Come on, Carson’s waiting for us.”

John took her hand, his fingers closing around hers, and cheerfully let her lead him away. Okay, yes, she _would_ miss this obedience when everything was over. Still, she hoped Carson was right and everything would be back to normal soon. Even take-the-law-into-his-own-hands John would be a relief after the disturbing effect this besotted version of John had had on her emotions.

“Sheppard or Weir?” he asked suddenly as they turned the corridor corner.

“What?” She had been concentrating on trying to eliminate certain thoughts and wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly.

“If we were married would you be Elizabeth Sheppard or Elizabeth Weir?”

She really hoped that Amanda had given them a funny look as she passed because they were holding hands and not because she’d overheard the question. “John...”

“I’m just curious,” he said innocently, with the puppy-dog look that was probably outlawed on half the planets in the galaxy.

She sighed, pulled a face at him, and considered the question. It was still quite normal for a woman to take her husband’s name when she married, and Elizabeth had always vaguely assumed she would if it ever happened, but... She’d been Elizabeth Weir her entire life. Did she want to change that? And was it stupid to feel pleased that John hadn’t made any assumptions, that even in his gooey-eyed state he was willing to ask for her opinion?

“I think,” she said finally as they approached the infirmary, “Weir for professional use and Sheppard – I mean my husband’s name – for private life.”

Had his grin always been knee-melting or was gooey-eyedness contagious?

* * *

Carson’s ‘we’re close’ apparently could be translated ‘we need to do a lot more tests’. John protested but a simple appeal from Elizabeth managed to quieten him every time. Yes, there were definitely some things she would miss when he was himself again.

But come late afternoon she was standing beside John in Rodney’s lab while Rodney and Radek spoke over each other in an attempt to explain their triumph and Carson just smiled. In the end, though, Elizabeth didn’t need to understand. She just needed it to work.

“It’s weird, really,” Rodney said thoughtfully as John reached out at her prompting to touch the statue. “You’d think with all the documentation they had with this thing they’d include some information on how to turn it off.”

“Maybe it is so obvious to them they had no need to say,” Radek offered with a shrug. “It is quite simple once it is understood.”

“Simple is good,” Elizabeth said hopefully. 

“Simple?” Carson scoffed. “Changing a man’s brain chemistry in verra specific ways and then changing it back to exactly how it was prior to the interference? That’s not simple.”

Catching Elizabeth’s worried expression, Radek said hastily, “To us, no, but the Ancients knew what they were doing. It is only a matter of reversing the initial process.”

“You’re sure this won’t harm him?”

“He won’t feel a thing,” Rodney said confidently and hit a switch.

John blinked. Then he slowly pulled his hand away from the statue and looked around at the people watching him curiously.

“Well?” Rodney asked impatiently.

“How are you feeling, Major?” Carson asked.

“Fine. Why?” His eyes came to Elizabeth. They widened. “Oh. I know why.”

“You said there wasn’t anyone!” Rodney said quickly, eager to absolve himself of all blame.

“There... wasn’t,” he said uncertainly, still staring at Elizabeth. But now without besottedness, just confusion. She looked away. “So I guess that thing really was a matchmaking device, then?”

“It certainly looks that way,” Rodney agreed, cheerful now that no one seemed about to heap blame on him.

“Why would they make something that would do that?” John asked, his voice very carefully normal.

“How should I know! Maybe the last person to use it was getting really annoyed that their boss wouldn’t act on his feelings for his best friend and wanted to give him a kick in the pants.”

“So help me, McKay,” John turned on him, “if I find out you set this up...”

“Me?” Rodney protested in outraged innocence. “I didn’t do anything!”

Elizabeth decided it was time to intervene. “John.” And had he always dismissed the rest of the world to focus all his attention on her and she’d just never noticed before? She smiled faintly at him. “Come on, John, I think we need to talk.”

Rodney attempted to exchange sympathetic grimaces with him but John didn’t grimace back, he just nodded a farewell to the other three and smiled at Elizabeth. “Okay.”

Automatically she reached for his hand as they left the room, before his amused look made her realise what she’d done. “Oh, I’m sorry!” She tried to drop his hand but he didn’t let go. “John!”

“Hey, you started it,” he reminded her.

“ _You_ started it,” she shot back. “I was acting in self defence!”

He did let go then, and she fought down the urge to grab his hand back. “Was it really so bad?” he asked quietly.

She looked away. “No.”

For a moment neither of them spoke. “It must be dinner time,” John said finally. “Let’s grab something to eat.”

“Okay,” she said, snatching at the excuse to put off talking for all that it had been her idea. That one little statue had put up unexpected barriers, made awkwardness where once there had been only easy friendship. 

They said nothing as they walked to the messhall or as they each collected a plate of food. Elizabeth headed for a table, but John steered her towards one of the balconies that the messhall opened onto. “I think we might want a little privacy for this,” he said softly as she looked at him in surprise.

She looked down at her plate, completely unsure.

“It was weird, you know?” he said thoughtfully as they sat down side by side, the red light of a Lantean sunset washing over them. “I was in control the whole time but I knew that it wasn’t how I normally acted. I just couldn’t quite make the connection to _caring_ that it wasn’t how I normally acted. Let alone change what I was doing.” He paused. Elizabeth didn’t look at him. “I really appreciate what you did for me,” he added. “It can’t have been easy.”

She reached across the distance between them to put her hand on his. “I wouldn’t have done it for anyone else, but...” She met his eyes. “John, I couldn’t turn away from you. Ever.” He smiled, real gratitude in his eyes, and it made every single annoyance and exasperation of the last couple of days completely worth it. 

“I still can’t get over how...”

“Obsessed?”

He pulled a face at her. “Thanks. How focussed I was. I mean, I understood intellectually that’s what that thing was supposed to do, but actually experiencing it was something else entirely. If the Wraith had attacked the city I wouldn’t have cared. Hell, I probably wouldn’t even have noticed. But if you’d said ‘John, I need your help’, I’d’ve swum laps around Atlantis just to earn the right to help.”

Elizabeth blinked. And then had to blink again at the sudden tears that arose at his sincerity. “You had it bad,” she managed to tease.

“Have,” he corrected gently. So gently that it took a moment for his meaning to sink in. “I might be able to concentrate on more than just you now, but...” The worshipful look was gone from his eyes now, but it had been replaced by a tender warmth that was far, far deeper. And far scarier. She held her breath. “Look, Elizabeth, everything I did, everything I said – it was me. It might’ve been a spaced-out, completely-off-my-head version of me, but it was still me. I just never realised it till I touched that thing.” She stared at him and he shrugged, slightly shame-faced but not retracting his words. “I just thought you should know.”

Elizabeth knew she had to match this confession with one of her own, but since John had touched that statue all her words seemed to be lost to her. “I learnt something today, John,” she said finally.

“That bad taste really is bad for you?”

She smiled. “No. I—John, if I’d been the one to touch that statue the only thing that would have changed would have been that I’d be the one undergoing the tests. I wouldn’t have let you out of my sight for an instant.” Her smile widened. “And if we’d both touched it...”

“We’d’ve been gazing soulfully into each other’s eyes?” he teased.

“Not,” she said deliberately, “for very long.”

He reached out with a hand that shook slightly and ran his finger gently along the curve of her cheek. She leant into the touch, staring into his eyes. This was John, her John. And he was still...

Laughter from inside the messhall made them jump apart.

“So...” John said uncomfortably.

“So,” she agreed. What did you do after you’d just confessed mutual... _something_ with your second in command? Embarrassed silence lingered for a moment, then she shot a sideways look at John just as he shot one at her. Their eyes met, held. And they both smiled softly, content. Whatever crazy situation they’d gotten themselves into now it was fine, they’d sort it out; they always did.

The silence continued, but now it was a comfortable silence. They watched the sun sinking down into the sea and ate their dinner.

“I’m glad I touched that thing,” John said suddenly.

She gave him a sidelong smile. “Me too.”

“Good.” He grinned at her for a moment, just looking at her. Elizabeth tried not to blush, which was something she’d had far too much practice at lately. “Hey, do you know why I was the one to have to do it? Rodney said he couldn’t, something about a Sam Carter? Which personally I think was just an excuse, because the idea of Rodney focussing on _one_ person...? Nah. But Radek wouldn’t either and he wouldn’t say why.”

She turned to look at him. “You think he has a crush on someone.”

“Yup. Wanna help me figure out who it is?” he asked gleefully.

“Why, so you can tease him mercilessly?”

“Of course!”

She laughed. “I don’t know, John...”

“Oh, go on. You know you want to.”

Shaking her head, she stood up and brushed the crumbs from her pants. “We’ll see, John.”

He followed her into the messhall. “I seem to remember you promising that about something else, too.”

She paused, turning back to him. “Oh?” Was he really going to ask her on a date? Even though the effects of the statue had worn off? Twenty four hours ago she wouldn’t have believed it and now it seemed natural. She met his eyes, smiling. One little statue, two days of craziness... and everything had changed.

He grinned back. “Yeah. So, Elizabeth, I had a question for you.”

She was distantly aware that there were tables full of people around them who could hear every word they were saying, but didn’t really care. “Yes?”

“Elizabeth Weir, will you marry me?”

She laughed. “Yes, John, but you’ve still got it backwards.”

“Really?” he asked, his eyes laughing, as he took her plate from her hands and put it down with his on a nearby table without regard for the occupants. He took a step toward her. “You mean that dinner we just had didn’t count as a date?”

“I don’t think it’s a date if no one’s called it one.” He took another step toward her. “Besides which,” she pointed out, trying not to laugh, “it usually takes several dates before the question of marriage comes up.”

“You sure?” He took another step and now they were toe to toe.

“Yes. But what I actually meant was that you would usually have kissed me at least once.”

John grinned. “Well, _that_ we can fix.”

In retrospect, Elizabeth decided that she _liked_ that her life was insane.

_ Fin _


End file.
